Life — May 4, 1911 — page 34: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ora ‘The ‘Litera Rhymed Reviews The Broad Highway (By Jeffery Farnol, Of many heroes have I read To sing their deeds in rhyme and meter, Ttut none possessed a harder head Than Mr. Vibart, — christened “ Peter.” With knotted fist or cudgel stout Upon his pate their buffets piling, Three times at least they knocked him out, But every time he came up smiling. His uncle made a funny will, Like many other wealthy ninnies, Which left resourceless Peter nil— Except ten paltry yellow guineas. But—here’s a fine proviso! Zounds!— ilis blackguard coz, or Mr. Peter Shall have five hundred thousand pounds If either win a lady sweeter Than Hybla’s mead—the reigning belle, Sophia Sefton; all adore her; Prince-Regent George himself, they tell, Has laid his battered heart before her! Little, Brown & Co.) What says our Peter? “Woo, for gold, A haughty minx? that isn’t my way Hl seck adventure, uncontrolled And glad, upon the open highway!" Oh, Georgian days of patch and paint, Of coach and inn and lusty drinkers, Of robbers shrewd, of pedlars quaint, And kindly, philosophic tinkers! Ah, bad Sir Maurice, rich in dress! Oh, blacksmith bold and cabin haunted! Oh, ladies fair in deep distress! Oh, faith unsullied, love undaunted! A brave romance! Unvwillingly [ half recall another, written About one Kenelm Chillingly By Edward Bulwer, Baron Lytton. Yet this itself is gallant stuff: Good Peter wins his double trophy, Of which the gold is well enough, But I don’t envy him his Sophy. Arthur Guiterman. A Receipt Mr. John Galsworthy, an English- man and a playwright (the two things do not necessarily have any connec- tion with each other), has written a hook entitled “ A Moth which is a book of short stories without any plot. Mr. Galsworthy calls these sions,” and the idea is to present to the reader, in each instance, a picture of some thing that Mr. Galsworthy has seen, so that the total of the book rep- resents a part of what Mr. Galsworthy knows. The idea of writing short stories without any plot is a very happy one. It has been done before, we believe, but never in the frank and hearty man- ner that Mr. Galsworthy has done it. mpres- We, have a conceit that we can do almost as well, and for the benefit of all those who are trying to make a liv- ing from writing we hereby throw off a few things of our own, in accord- ance with Mr. Galsworthy’s receipt: I Daylight enables one to see, although not so well in the city as in the coun- try, on account of the high buildings. Policemen sce also, when they desire todo so. One of them saw, on the cor- ner of Fifth Avenue and Thirty-fourth Street, a young girl. She could not walk, on account of a hobble skirt which she had on. She undoubtedly had it on. There were circles under her eyes, and she bore the look of one ry) Zoo who never slept. The — policeman picked her quietly up in his carried her across the street. He landed her safely on the other sid As for me, I waited as usual. I si to be always waiting somewhere. i. A young girl was sewing in an attic room. It was an attic room, because it was up fourteen flights, and right next to it was the roof. No one was in the room with the young girl. No one. No one, but her mother, dying; her sister, assisting her mother, other sister and four more child all playing the same game. mother was gaining on the others There could be no question about that. She started to say “ My feet are cold,” but got no further than feet. I then came away. ms and “OLE NEVER LEARN THIS LESSON comicbooks.com